


Heartbreak

by ShadowBlazer



Series: Heart [4]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBlazer/pseuds/ShadowBlazer
Summary: V deals with the biochip getting worse as she runs out of time and has to meet Hanako. She's not ready yet. There's so much more she still wants to do. Just a few more weeks, a couple more days.Please.AKA: V does a bunch of jobs to avoid having that one serious conversation with Judy.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Female V, Judy Alvarez/Female V
Series: Heart [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076372
Comments: 39
Kudos: 290





	Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> This one doesn't quite have as much Judy/V interactions as I would have hoped, but it helps explain V's perspective during the second half of the upcoming part 2. There's also a significant shift in tone compared to the other ones, as the game also gets a lot darker after a certain point. Most of all, this chapter mostly reflects me doing whatever missions I have left before the point of no return and putting it into a story. Hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> As always, much thanks to Halifax for all her support and effort in helping me polish this story. I have no idea why this thing is 9000 words, but here it is. 
> 
> Halifax: "There’s a lot of “fucks” given in this story. Literally and metaphorically."

V hates waiting. 

It’s an endless source of frustration that so many of her gigs involving sitting somewhere until nightfall, sunrise, twilight, or whatever the fuck time of day needs to happen before she can continue her work. 

She feels like there’s not enough seconds in the day, like water pouring out of a broken glass, like blood slipping between her fingers. She can’t get a good hold of them, no matter what she does. 

Johnny actually looks concerned now as he helps her off the floor after the newest attack, this one sending her to her knees in Corpo Plaza in the heart of downtown. ‘It’s getting worse.’

V coughs, staggers against the side of a building. “I know. I just need to finish some things, promises to keep.”

‘What does it matter?’ He looks disgusted, worried. ’You won’t even exist anymore soon.’

“And you will. You’ll win, Johnny. Why do you care about what happens to me?” She pushes away from him, moving forward.

His voice follows her. ‘You think that this is what I want? To see you dying while I can’t do anything about it? Why would I want that? Use your fucking head for once.’

V’s temper flares. She whips around to shred Johnny with her tongue when her phone vibrates. Both of them stare as V checks it to see a drunk text message from Judy.

Johnny snorts. ‘She’s got some timing. You should tell her, you know.’

V ducks her head. “I just want—“

Her phone rings, and this time, Judy’s calling her.

Johnny shakes his head. ‘Have fun.’ He turns and vanishes from sight.

Sighing, V answers. A red-faced, grinning Judy greets her, the vibrant lights of the Moxes’ bar behind her. “‘Ey, V! I missed you! Come over!” she slurs. In the background, there are the excited shouts of female voices as Judy continues, “Gosh, you’re so cute.”

V raises an eyebrow. “Having a good time?”

“Nah, just a girls’ night out with Roxanne and some others.” Judy drops her phone, and V’s treated to a vibrant string of Spanish curses as the phone shows the club’s ceiling. The world lurches sideways when Judy picks up the device, and her face shows on the vid screen again. “Anyway, you should come over. Add your own flair to this place.”

V snorts. Unless Judy wants her workplace shot up, V wouldn’t recommend contributing her style. “Can’t. Got to do something.” Delamain, an AI that commands a taxi service, called her an hour ago, sounding distorted and strange. “Need to check on a friend.”

Drunk Judy pouts, which is adorable. “You’re always working.” She scrubs her face. “But I know. You gotta do what makes you happy.”

V pauses, wondering if any of this does. “Hey, listen.” She feels dirty, knowing Judy likely won’t remember any of this later. “The biochip. I need to let you know that it’s getting w—” 

Someone whoops in the background, shouting something like, “Is that V? She’s such a cutie! Get her to join!”

Another jumps in. “V? Oh, yum. You don’t mind sharing, right, Judy?”

Judy twists around to snarl at them, nearly falling off of her stool before she turns back. “Sorry, V. Didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

V sighs, closing her eyes. “Nothing important. Have fun.” She hangs up as a background voice goes, “Oh, she definitely minds.”

Johnny materializes, shaking his head. ‘Coward.’ He stands beside her, looking straight ahead. There’s no judgment or anger in his voice, just a bone-deep tiredness that V understands. 

“I know.” V checks her map, calculating how long it will take to get to Delamain’s headquarters. “But I still have things to do. People I said I would help.” She takes a few steps, staggering when her vision splinters for a second before continuing on. “And miles to go before I sleep.”

Johnny’s voice carries behind her. ‘That’s your problem. You always got to play the hero, even if it will cost you, even if it’ll end badly. I would tell you to be selfish for once, and do whatever the fuck you want in the time you have left but I know you won’t listen.’ His voice goes quiet. ‘You need to be you.’ 

V coughs, shivering. A light sheet of rain starts falling, and V feels the droplets catch on her face. “You would understand that out of everyone.” 

‘Yeah, I would.’ He appears beside her, arm out as if ready to catch her if she falls. ‘As we say in the biz, even if it ends tragically, the show must go on.’

She makes her way to Delamain’s headquarters, considerably worried when she needs to sneak in and avoid the loose wires, electrified floors, and hostile drones just to reach the AI’s core. “I’m guessing business has been sliding a bit.”

Johnny hums. ‘Think there were a few less hostile AIs the last time we were here.’

“Y’think?” V jumps up to grab onto the catwalk, hauling herself up. “If I had known that gathering all those rogue AIs would do this, I wouldn’t have done it.”

‘Yes, you would. You can never refuse a request from people you think are your friends,’ Johnny sighs. ‘Don’t follow your buddy’s instruction blindly. He’s proven to be a shit dad, and, besides…’ His voice goes quiet. ‘...those AIs didn’t have a choice in whether they wanted to exist either.’

V glances over, but Johnny looks away.

She races her way through the catwalk, leaping over missing sections to make it to the strange room to Delamain’s core, a place bathed in white while a wave of grey blocks surface around her, forming what looks like a city. She almost makes it to the core when Johnny appears right in front of her. ‘I don’t agree with this guy. You shouldn’t delete the rogues.’

“Move, Johnny!” V snarls. “I got to do something.”

‘Not until you hear me out. Why should the kids pay for the sins of the father?’

Really? Johnny fucking Silverhand is giving her a speech on morality while Delamain HQ is going down?

Johnny’s shoulders tighten. ‘You, of all people, should know what it’s like to be afraid of being erased.’

“Fuck. You.” V pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache come on. She can’t argue his point. “Fine, I’ll see what else I can do.”

She ends up integrating all the identities together into Delamain’s core, creating something not like the old Delamain and not like the rogue AIs. Something greater than its separate parts. Something different. Something that isn’t who she used to know anymore.

“Kind of like what’s happening to you.” Johnny leans casually against the wall, hands in his pockets.

The new Delamain departs into the net but leaves his first son behind as a gift to the merc. V can’t hide her relief at hearing the tentative voice call from the warehouse. He’s not quite Delamain, will never be the friend V just lost, but he has enough of him to be familiar.

Delamain Jr. introduces himself politely, hesitantly. “I am at your service until the day you die, Miss. I cannot do anything about the latter, but I can do something about the former.”

V squeezes the steering wheel. “Thanks...for just being there.” 

She gets Del Jr. to drop her off at Arasaka plaza as she follows up with chasing down a cyber psycho spotted in the area who’s killing his fellow Tyger Claws. V doesn’t see anything wrong with that, but Regina Jones, the fixer in Kabuki market, looks worried that someone else will take him down and not in a way that’ll help him. So, V obliges...after watching him kill all the other Tyger Claws first.

She sighs as she checks her phone, thinking of sending something to Judy as the gang members scatter in front of her, screaming as they’re cut down by the cyberpsycho. Maybe a still or something. Maybe a simple text to just let her know that V’s thinking of her. 

A gurgle sounds in front of her, and V looks up to see the psycho staring at her from atop a still-warm corpse. He wipes his katana on the back of its shirt before he starts approaching her, and V reluctantly puts away her phone.

She just finished knocking him out and walking down the stairs to the subway ten minutes later when the gun on her belt starts speaking, and people whip their heads around at her before they run away, screaming. She can’t blame them when anything in this city could lead to their death, including a talking gun.

She sighs and pulls out Skippy, who chirps. He’s been a pain in her ass since she found it on that body. “What now?”

“User. I have a datafile with my original owner’s name: Regina Jones. Please return me to my owner.”

V thinks it over. “Nope. You’re mine now. Finders, keepers.”

Skippy pauses. “Turning up volume 300%. TAKE ME BACK TO MY OWNER.”

V tucks the pistol away. “Tough luck, buddy.”

She figures it’s worth it to keep a gun with a head-seeking program even if it screams at her that she’s a bad user for the rest of the day.

Later, she changes her mind when Skippy’s shouting starts to annoy her and heads to Regina’s place, which had a turret locked on the entrance to her office. Paranoid and rightly so.

Regina resets Skippy without hesitation, and V’s appalled at the sluggish monotone of “Daisy” of the new gun interface. Of course, V asks if there was any reward for returning Skippy, and she walks out with more ennies in her pocket and a strange emptiness in her chest. She feels like she’s killed a person.

Johnny scoffs, ‘Christ, you even got attached to a gun. For fuck’s sakes, you’re lonely, V.’

He isn’t wrong. “But doesn’t it make you wonder, Johnny? That was a fully functional AI with a personality, and Regina wipes him like that.” V runs a hand through her hair. “Is it that easy to be erased? To be forgotten? Is anyone going to miss me when I’m gone?”

Johnny goes quiet and looks away. ‘You’re asking the wrong person.’

“Cause everyone remembers you?”

‘Cause I don’t have friends who even fucking like me like you do.’ Johnny twists away in disgust. ‘Get over yourself!’

The next day rolls in, and V finds herself in the outskirts of Night City. Judy texts her, apologizing profusely for yesterday and asking what she’s up to. V fires back that she’s currently in a fist fight in Arroyo.

When she checks her phone thirty minutes later with a new sniper rifle, she sees Judy’s flat ‘what’ and a series of missed calls. Grimacing, she sends a picture of her new trophy and hopes that Judy doesn’t ask any more questions as she kicks her opponent’s body out of the way. Trying to attack someone with his buddies after he’s been beaten. What a sore loser.

Judy responds with a teasing remark about random texts. V shoots back a screenshot of the very recent time Judy drunk-texted her, resulting in an annoyed emoticon playfully sent back. 

V chuckles, feeling her mood lift. She checks her phone to see what else she needs to finish on her to-list, the jobs she agreed to do.

It is super awkward calling Rogue, queen of Afterlife and Johnny’s ex, about a date. She eventually agrees after much, much clarification from V that it’s Johnny asking, not her.

Rogue looks nervous when V comes to pick her up to the movies, asking about what Johnny said about her and so forth. It’s almost kind of cute, given how dignified she usually is.

“Thought you’d be over Silverhand by now.” V glances over to see Rogue staring straight ahead. “It’s been almost 60 years by now.”

“Didn’t you lose your friend in that failed heist? Did you forget about him?” Rogue crosses her arms, an indecipherable expression on her face. “You never really stop thinking about people when they’re gone. You just learn to continue your life without them.” 

When they get there, the drive-in is closed, so, of course, V needs to break in and find the projector to make the movie start. It’s some crappy movie about two dudes fighting on a train that V isn’t that completely opposed to watch, but Johnny waits beside her, tapping his feet impatiently, jittery. She pops the blue pill to give Johnny control, feeling her sensations fade up and waking up a few hours later alone with flashes of memory that she could really do without.

V wipes her mouth. “Ugh, I kissed Rogue.” Not that Rogue’s unattractive, but she has, like, fifty years on V.

Johnny jabs a thumb at his chest. ‘No, I did. You helped.’

“Yeah, with my lips.” V grabs a water bottle from her bag to rinse out any lingering taste. “Can you just, like, not make out with women when you’re in my body? I’m dating Judy, and she will tear me three new holes if she ever finds out about this.”

Johnny shrugs. ‘How do you think I feel when you two fuck? You think I don’t feel it in some phantom pussy? Like that time you two fucked against a window—’

Okay, V’s had enough of this conversation. She walks away from Johnny. “Can you leave and give us some privacy then?” she shouts over her shoulder.

‘How can I do that? I’m in your head, V!’

She continues bickering with Johnny all the way back downtown where she meets Claire in City Centre for the race she was asked to join. The Afterlife bartender promptly informs her that she’ll be driving.

“Wait, I am?” V can barely drive without inciting a police warrant on a good day. “Why can’t I shoot people? That’s kind of my speciality.”

Claire shakes her head. “Need a driver for this one. You in or out?”

V sighs, “Fine. I’m only doing this, because you serve the best drinks in Afterlife. Can we at least take my rig?”

Claire’s lips quirk. “Sure. Now, get your ass in the driver’s seat.” 

The start of the race goes off, and V is slamming her foot to the floor in Johnny’s Porsche while Claire hangs out the passenger side window, firing behind them. Johnny moans in the backseat, ‘My car.’

‘Jesus, Johnny. It’s not that—’ V winces as she tears her way through a street sign on a sharp turn, wincing at the newly minted dent on the hood. ‘It’s still in one piece.’

‘This is a nightmare.’ He covers his eyes. ‘Wake me when it’s over.’

Even without Johnny’s support, V and Claire manage to snag first place, despite the wake of devastation among the street lights and signs behind them. When they step out into the crisp air of the night sky among the thundering cheers of onlookers, V feels electrified if only for a second. ‘You can look now. We won.’

Johnny scoffs, ‘Because my Porsche saved your asses. This is how you treat her?’ He strokes the dented metal of his car. ‘My poor baby.’

V rolls her eyes. Johnny is such a drama queen.

Claire’s beside herself, whooping and cheering. She’s extremely focused on making it to the finals, and V senses a story there with how suddenly snappish she becomes when prompted. She tells V to wait for her call for the next races before giving her a lift back to Claire’s garage. When the bartender drops her off, V’s relic malfunctions, leaving her vision skipping. She’s coughing up blood again.

But she still has more to go.

Red Dirt in the evening is an innocuous bar with a small stage and even smaller crowd, full of fans stuck in 2020 as far as their musical taste goes. This night, it is packed from wall to wall, and V strolls up to the former members of Samurai waiting nervously at a table. 

V really likes Bes Isis or Nancy, as Johnny calls her, the keyboardist. Really got her shit together aside from nearly getting shot up at the Totentanz club. Denny the drummer isn’t bad either, and V can’t blame her for nearly losing her mind after her ex filled her pool up with concrete. Henry, the former bassist and Denny’s ex, is a nutcase though.

They wait for Kerry Eurodyne, Johnny’s former friend and bandmate who gathered them all here today, when Johnny urges her to let him take over in private. She walks into the washroom, staring at the blue pill in her hand to give Johnny control and praying that he doesn’t fuck her up again. She tells him as much, and Johnny almost looks annoyed.

‘I’ve been good so far. Haven’t I earned some trust?’ Johnny huffs.

V still has yet to see that, but she takes the pill anyway.

There are glimpses in her memories of ripping apart a guitar solo on stage, the pure elation on Kerry’s face as he hops around, singing his lungs out. The music blares behind her, the crowd going wild, and everything passes in a haze as her fingers move up and down the frets in patterns she doesn’t recognize. She wakes up later at the bar with Kerry playing Johnny’s guitar and looking very pleased. Eurodyne hands her the gun he almost shot her with when Johnny first breaks into his mansion, and V’s not sure how to feel about that.

Kerry takes off while Johnny hangs out behind the bar, not looking at her. ‘Thanks. For doing this for me. Meant a lot to play with them one last time.’

V rubs her head, having the mother of all headaches. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Johnny sighs, ‘You need to do something for yourself too. Do what you want with the time you have. Because….’ He looks up at the clock hanging above the bar. 

“I know.” She grabs the gun and heads out. “Just a bit more.”

Johnny shakes his head, silently following her out.

A couple days later after she finishes the preliminary races with Claire, Kerry Eurodyne calls her for a gig as V’s sending off a father’s regard to a Valentino in City Central. She’s wondering why she’s waiting at the Foodstop at the corner of Mallagra and Manzanita at fuck o’clock at night when Kerry pulls up. Apparently, he needs V to sabotage a truck carrying gear for an Asian pop group who wants to cover one of his songs. V raises an eyebrow and gets in the car all the same.

She lays a giant spike mine across the street and hides with Kerry, waiting right as a truck drives toward them. The spikes slice into the tires with Johnny doing a dramatic flourish in the middle of the street as the truck passes through him, skidding along the pavement until it lurches to a stop.

They hold the drivers at gunpoint, blow up the expensive musical instruments in the back, and escape the cops that arrive on the scene. Then, Kerry wants carnitas.

And it’s still not the weirdest gig V’s done.

V decides to join, because if he’s paying for breakfast, why not? It turns out that Kerry’s deeper than she gives him credit for, terrified that the rise of the US Cracks reflects how he sold himself out to the corps for success and fame. How he traded everything he actually values for the fleeting taste of being known. V assures him that he’s got a rocker’s soul, and Kerry sits up a little straighter, smiling. 

He thanks her before leaving, and V’s left alone to enjoy some admittedly fantastic carnitas. She wonders where Johnny is, having been silent since the truck hijacking.

Claire fires her off a text the moment she steps out of the diner, and V can tell the poor woman hasn’t been sleeping. V reassures her that they’re going to leave Sampson, her husband’s killer, in a smear across the pavement during the final race, and Claire thanks her for listening, for helping.

V is still smiling at her phone when Judy messages that she’s got a surprise waiting for her if she swings by. V, being a merc and not particularly fond of surprises, asks what it is, and Judy sends a still of a sweet shotgun sitting on her kitchen counter.

V’s over there in ten minutes and admiring the exquisite piece of iron while Judy snorts softly and leans into V’s back, wrapping her arms around her waist. Judy murmurs, “Like a fly to honey.”

“We all have our hobbies.” V picks up the shotgun in awe. “Does this make me an honorary Mox now?”

“You wish.” Pulling away, Judy spins V around with an eager smile on her face. “C’mere. Got something to show you.”

V’s slightly disappointed when Judy takes her hand and leads her past the bedroom into the editing room. She quickly forgets about it when Judy boots up a beautiful image of their underwater trip together. “Whoa, you’ve really been working on this.” She leans over Judy, who sits in the chair. 

“It’s my passion project when I’m not editing smut all day.” Judy leans backwards into V, head resting against her chest. “I think it’s coming along real nicely.”

“I’d say. So, when am I going to see the full version?”

A corner of Judy’s mouth curls up. “You know patience is a virtue, right?”

“Not in my line of work.” V sighs, resting her chin on top of Judy’s head, loosely hanging her arms around the other woman’s shoulders. “So, walk me through it. What did you do?”

Judy perks, going through more technical terms that V has ever learned in her life. Most of them go over V’s head, but she looks excited explaining everything so V listens, noting that Judy hasn’t let go of her hand once since she started talking.

She leaves Judy’s place a few hours later and heads back home. After a shower, she kicks up her feet on her couch as she checks over her phone to see how her contacts are. Panam is fine and still working on her big plan to help V, Mama Welles chews her out for not calling sooner, and River still isn’t picking up her calls.

Johnny crosses his arms, reclining on her couch. ‘Guy puts his heart on a silver platter, sets up a date in the most romantic spot he can think of, and you shoot him down. Can you blame him for not answering?’

“I’m not fond of losing friends,” V groans, running her hands down her face. Had she not spent the night previously with Judy at the cabin, she imagined the dinner with River’s family the next day would have been marginally less awkward. “I just...I liked him, Johnny. As a person.”

‘And he liked you more.’ Johnny shrugs. ‘Tough luck for you both.’

She continues scrolling through her phone until she hits a certain name, pain flaring in her chest as she stares at the words “Jackie Welles” on her screen. Misty had said that calling the person’s voicemail and leaving a message often helps with the healing process, and V had resisted, scoffing at it and keeping herself busy. But this time...

V’s thumb hovers over the button before she takes a breath and calls Jackie’s voicemail.

The phone rings for a while, a wild hope surging in V’s chest that maybe he’ll answer, maybe she’ll hear his voice, and he’ll tell her that all of the last few months have just been a bad dream. That he never really died. That—

She gets his voicemail. The automated voice encourages her to leave a message, and V clears her throat, at a loss for what to say.

“Hey Jackie, it’s been a long time since we spoke. I...I went to your funeral earlier, which...god, it sounds so weird to say that. Your mother’s heart is broken, but she’s hanging in there. Your friends are too. Lots of respect for you in what they said. I said something for you too, buddy. Left your favourite book at your altar.” She fidgets with her fingers. “By the way, Hemmingway sucks. You need better taste in books.”

She takes a breath and counts to three, pulling together the discordant thoughts in her head. “I talked to Misty at your place. The Mandela you made? Total shit...but Misty appreciated it. Maybe I did too. She and your mom made up, went to dinner together. I wish you could see them now. Mama Welles treats her like her own daughter.”

A long moment of silence, and the voicemail keeps recording, keeps going on. V supposes she needs to as well.

“I...I miss you, Jackie.” Her throat seizes, feeling like sandpaper, fingers trembling. “Afraid this is going to be my only and last call. I know I’ve been talking to myself this whole time, but I just wanted to say you’re a good friend. Even when you’re not around.” Her voice cracks, nearly breaking. “Fuck, Jack. I didn’t get to say goodbye. You went so fast that I couldn’t even wrap my head around it before I had to deal with your body. I kept thinking where are you? Where did you go?”

V draws a breath, air rattling in her lungs. She almost breaks, struggling to stay upright, to stay together, knees buckling. She wants to hurl the phone out the window. She wants to go to sleep and never wake up.

‘Finish it, V.’ Johnny looks over from where he stands, staring it out the window. ‘Like you always do.”

V inhales sharply, pushing herself upright again and grabbing at the wall behind her. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted people to know your name, to know what you did and stood for. I know you never said it, but you were also thinking of settling down with Misty, have kids and a happily ever after. You would have been a good father, a good husband. We would have buddies until our last days, knocking back drinks and reminiscing about the time we stole from Arasaka and made it big.

“But you died. And so did I. Neither of us made it out. I’m just living on stolen time.”

V scrubs at her face. “Amigo, it should have been me who died, not you.” Her voice cracks. “I miss you everyday. I wish you were here. What could I have done better so you would still be here? What did I fuck up that cost you your life? I’m sorry. For what I did and didn’t do. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you.

“Jackie... wait for me. Please. I’ll see you soon.”

She hangs up, sighing and wiping at her face. 

Johnny stands at her side, arms crossed, silent. 

“What? Nothing to say?” V snarls.

‘Why? Is there something wrong with crying over a choom who died? You think I haven’t? Those dog tags you’re wearing proved that much.’

V ducks her head, exhaling. “Yeah, that’s...sorry.” She goes silent for a long moment. “Thanks. For...helping me end it.” 

Johnny looks at her before scoffing softly, glancing away. ‘You never forget them, V. You just learn how to live without them.’

V sinks into her bed, holding her head, wishing she could sleep like the grave. It would be nice just to close her eyes. Calling Jackie’s voicemail seems to have made the weight in her chest a little lighter, seems to have helped. Maybe she’ll tell Judy to call hers when V...

‘Get up. You got stuff to do, remember?’ Johnny stares out of her window again, not looking at her. ‘The show must go on.’

V has one more fight in Pacifica that she needs to attend to be declared the boxing champion in Night City, and she arrives at the Grand Imperial Place midday, sun still in the sky. While she’s waiting for the final fight, Johnny decides he wants to go on the ancient roller coaster in the back and annoys her so much that she ends up repairing the damn thing.

Once she fixes it, she goes for a ride with a grinning Johnny, wondering why a ghost needs a safety harness. 

‘Fuck, yeah, V!’ Johnny roars as they go upside down on a loop, arms in the air. ‘Live a little!’

V gives him two middle fingers instead of her customary one.

‘That’s the spirit!’ He shouts, whooping. ‘Why don’t you take your output here?’

The last place V would take anyone on a date is Pacifica, especially because she wiped out most of the reigning gang here. If it’s anything like the Tyger Claw incident, she would rather not risk the wrath of a few stragglers while Judy’s with her.

‘You’re so soft when it comes to that girl,’ Johnny snorts as the ride slows, and they end up back on the platform. ‘Careful that no one else finds out about her.’

Coach Fred texts her, asking where she is, as V heads back to the entrance of the mall. She greets Cesar, the fighter she had beaten up but let keep his bet money for his incoming kid. He grins and says he still has a day before the due date, and he wouldn’t miss her fight for anything. She nods at him and continues to walk up to Coach Fred, who basically tells V that she’s going up against a three time heavyweight champion with bioengineered mechanical arms. 

Well, shit.

She spots Vik watching from the side as she sits in her corner, trying to hide her hyperventilation, and she’s grateful her ripperdoc is attending. Vik gets into her comer, helping her manage the sick feeling in her stomach when she looks at her opponent, Razor Hughes—a massive man who looks like he’s been on steroids five times over.

Vik jerks his head in Razor’s direction. “The abs, V. He had a replacement a few weeks ago, and they haven’t healed yet. You could do some real damage there.”

So, V listens. Using her smaller frame and faster speed to dodge to the side and crack him in the mid-back or abs when she has a chance, she throws her full weight into each blow. Razor catches her once or twice in the side of the head, nearly sending her spinning to the floor before she catches herself, slapping her hand against the cold floor of the broken boxing ring. She grits her teeth and gets up again.

She manages to win, because Razor, for all of his bulk, only uses a certain set of moves and doesn’t know how to fight her counterpunching. She knocks him to the ground in a flurry of blows after he tries Superman punch her again, and he goes down in agony, holding his stomach.

The announcer declares her the victor, Coach Fred gives her an inscrutable look, and Cesar gives her a high five when she steps out of the ring, woozy. “I knew this would happen. Only the best could beat me.” He nods. “Good fight.”

V nods, head still spinning, guts feeling trampled. She makes her way to Vik who grins proudly, and she compliments his coaching. He takes a quick look at her before his smile drops, and he takes her arm, escorting her out of the crowd and out of the mall before she passes out in the parking lot.

She wakes in the back of Vik’s car, the leather seats worn but clean. “What happened?”

“Easy, now. I got you. Taking you to my clinic to fix you up. Might have a concussion or two. May have dislodged your neural implants.”

V closes her eyes. “Thanks, Vik.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I also let your girl know what happened too.”

V’s eyes snap open. Oh, fuck. “How mad is she on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I believe her exact words were ‘That’s my fucking girl’ so she’s likely an 11 out of 10 on the impressed scale.” Vik turns left gently. “Says she should get your autograph before it’s worth more than a luxury apartment. As for the injuries—” He glances back at her. “—she says to take care of yourself. Can’t afford you not remembering her due to brain damage.”

“Ha ha.” V sighs, closing her eyes. Not as bad as she expected.

“V.” Vik’s voice goes grave. He stares straight ahead. “Where are things going with her? She seems pretty smitten, and you don’t have a lot of time. Did you tell her?”

V goes silent.

Vik shakes his head. “She’s a sweet girl. Don’t hurt her more than you need to.”

“I know.” V closes her eyes and lets Vik carry her back to his clinic.

Kerry calls her afterwards while she’s recuperating in Vik’s chair, still ranting about the Us Cracks, and how he needs V to accompany him to talk to them. He tells her to bring her heat to the club the girls are playing in. 

As it turns out, after sneaking into the dressing room to confront the band, they find the managers of both the girls and Kerry went behind their backs to sign a contract neither of the artists were fully informed on, and Kerry deflates. Most of V’s job is just asking questions to clarify the situation, and she realizes that Kerry is afraid of being replaced. She gets that. She really does.

V slips away while the reconciled musicians are talking, having made a pocketful of ennies without firing a bullet. She checks her phone again, wondering if she has time to call Judy when another gig request pops up, and V sighs. She wishes she has more time to just be with her, more hours to talk. But V needs to go. More promises to keep.

A few days later, Kerry invites her to a fancy lounge to celebrate their “victory” over the Us Cracks. Apparently, he’s performing with the girls from Japan, and he smirks confidently from the stage in the Dark Matter club, a distinctly polished and clean place a step up from the places V frequents. He answers the interviewers surrounding them with the air of a professional bullshitter, but V could spot the twitch of his shoulders, his jaw.

V manages to squeeze her way through to find out that Kerry wants her to rescue him from the reporters. She finds herself at the end of a barrage of cameras going off as she escorts him from stage. She’s wondering how the hell she’s gotten linked up with huge celebrities, but between Kerry and Lizzy Wizzy, the murderous cyborg who committed suicide on stage for art, Kerry seems marginally more sane.

He brings her to a restaurant in the same building he paid to close down for a day, and V whistles at the sheer amount of money Kerry has lying around to just do this for them. Leading her to a balcony with a golden railing, Kerry gestures to the view of the city before them, looking forlorn all of sudden, despite his fame, his success, the gold plating along his throat and chest.

“You ever feel like you’re just...living in someone’s shadow? Following someone else’s greatness? Fading for good into the mire the moment you stop trying, stop struggling?” Kerry stares out into the darkness that is Night City, arms folded beneath his chin as he leans on the railing.

V glances over to Johnny who gazes at Kerry with an unfamiliar expression. Almost looks like regret if she doesn’t know Johnny better. “Kerry, you don’t need to be so afraid. You made it. You’re a superstar, more famous than Samurai. Everyone knows your name. Everyone respects you. You don’t need anyone to make you great.” Without thinking, she reaches out and palms his cheek affectionately, the way she’s seen Johnny do in a prior memory. He starts but doesn’t brush her off. “You’ll be fine, even without me.”

Kerry sighs, runs his hand through his well-kept grey hair. “Maybe.” He turns back to the city, sinking into thought as V bids him goodbye, clearly seeing that he needs space for himself.

A few hours later, she’s in central downtown, hunting down another cyberpsycho for Regina again when Judy messages her, asking why there’s pictures of her with Kerry Eurodyne circulating on the net. V wonders how she could guess it was her with the Kiroshi optics obscuring her face, and Judy says that she recognizes the lame Samurai jacket that V has started wearing lately.

Johnny looks incredibly offended. ‘I take back every single nice thing I said about her.’ He walks away, muttering under his breath while V rolls her eyes. She replies to Judy, saying that she’s done a couple of jobs for him, and he seems like a cool guy once you get past his temper...much like someone else she knows.

Judy says she has no idea who V is talking about.

Later that night, Kerry calls her, mysteriously inviting her to the marina, and V wonders why artists have to be so secretive about their projects that they invite her to. Would it hurt to have two lines of detail? 

She gets to the marina to see Kerry on a bigass yacht, waving to her to come on. V admires the sheer size of the boat, the clean white seats that still look new, the polished wooden floors, and she wonders what’s the occasion this time. Kerry gets her to sit down next to him as he jams on a guitar, humming a new tune he’s been working on as the Seamurai—god, that’s an awful name—drifts into the harbour around Night City before gliding its way past the towers, the massive holograms floating above them.

Kerry’s about as big of a geek about his guitar as Judy is about her BD tech equipment, and V nods along absent-mindedly, having gotten used to people getting excited over technical stuff she doesn’t get. She does perk up when Kerry mentions that it’s time to close the loop on the past. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, you know. My guru—” Kerry has a guru? “—says that life comes in circles, stages. In order to move forward, you need to close the loop on the last one. Let it go so something new can come into your life.” He exhales. “Let go of Samurai and Johnny.” 

V glances up at Johnny, lying on the edge of the boat, staring into the sky. He’s been oddly silent, and something stirs in V’s chest at the sight of him. How does Johnny feel when people he used to know are letting go of him, moving on with their lives? How would V?

Kerry sighs, confessing that he still thinks about Johnny, and he’d rip him out of his head if he could.

V chuckles. “I know the feeling.”

Kerry grins. “There’s something about you, V. You’re a shaker, a mover, a catalyst. You take things stuck in the mud, and you make them go. You make people change, so I figure I’d invite you here to witness my metamorphosis.” He stands up and smashes the extremely rare guitar into the deck, splintered wood flying everywhere as a dark smile comes onto his face. When V stares, he smirks. “What? You think this is my guitar? My boat?” He gestures for her to follow him to the cabin. “Nah, belongs to my manager. The guy who screwed me over.” 

Ah, V sees where this is going.

“C’mon, V! Grab something!” Kerry pushes a table over, stomps on the wine glasses littering the floor. “Help me out!”

V shrugs and grabs hold of the nearby painting.

Destroying the yacht is oddly therapeutic. V methodically takes apart the record player, the radio, tears out the bottle of wine in the fridges and hurls them against the wall in bright splashes of gold and glass. Destruction is where she feels most at ease, where she’s at her best and brightest. She thinks of the wealth of Night City, the siren call of fame that lured Jackie into a stupidly dangerous job and her with him, and massive fallout like a too-daring rebel plummeting from the sun, and her fury is renewed. Why the fuck did this happen to her? Why did any of this happen at all? 

She blows out the windows by hurling whatever she can get through them. She turns over the couches, tears out the stuffing with her bare hands until there’s nothing left. Using the fire ax, she chops the expensive cushions until they’re hardly more than shreds of fabric before she turns the ax on the counters, the tables, the walls, and the fucking coffee machine.

She trashes the place with such vehemence that even Kerry looks at her with awe. “Damn, V. You got some serious anger issues to work out.” He holds out a lighter. “Want to do the honours?” 

The yacht goes down in a massive stench of black clouds as Kerry and V watch from the shore, drenched and shivering from having jumped into the water once they lit up the boat.

“Hey kid, thanks for being here with me,” Kerry coughs and looks out at the water. He bumps her with his shoulder. “To new beginnings.”

V bumps back. “And for the chance to have them.” 

Kerry drops her off in front of her place, and V walks into her apartment to shower and get a change of clothes. She calls Judy without thinking, and Judy picks up immediately. She takes off her BD gear and smiles. “Hey, what’s cracking? Didn’t expect to hear from you for a bit.”

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” V sighs, noting how her fingers tremble as she grabs a towel. Good thing Judy can’t see them. “Is that all right?”

Judy’s expression softens. “Always.” She pushes her equipment away, turning her attention fully on the screen. “What did you do today?

“I...destroyed a fancy yacht.”

Judy pauses. “Okay. That’s new.”

“With Kerry Eurodyne.”

Judy raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Did you get his autograph?”

“And the yacht is suddenly forgotten?”

“Temporarily pushed to the background while we focus on more important matters.” Judy leans forward with that cheeky smile of hers. 

V rolls her eyes. “I could probably get it for you if you want. I didn’t know you were a fan.” Or she could give her the gun that Kerry pistol-whipped Johnny with. “Or, you know, call him.”

“You’re on speaking terms with him?“ Judy’s mouth hangs slightly open. “How the hell did you even meet him?”

V...broke into his house? “Mutual acquaintance.”

Judy rubs her forehead. “That’s crazy, mi calabacita. Next, you’re going to tell me that you’re friends with Lizzy Wizzy or that new Asian band that everyone’s going crazy for.”

V hesitates. “We’re not exactly friends, but—“

“Wha—and you didn’t tell me?”

“They’re not even your type of music!” V protests. “You listen to sad shit from a century ago!”

“Excuse me, but this is high-quality, artistic sad shit from a century ago.” Judy sits back, tilting her head at V before she chuckles. “Nothing’s boring with you.”

“Does...does that bother you?”

Judy looks puzzled. “Why would it? I like you, because you’re so interesting. Just keep being you.” 

V doesn’t know how much longer she can do that.

She hangs up after a few more minutes and heads out to catch Claire as they make it to the final race, and they chase Sampson down until he flips over his car. V tries to talk the bartender down upon learning that Sampson did what any hot-blooded racer would do, what Dean would have done if he had switched spots, but she loads several bullets into his head anyway. 

Johnny shakes his head at the sad scene. ‘No hell worse than a woman scorned. Remember that, V.’

“Don’t think that quite applies here.” V looks at the messy stump that is the former driver’s head and at Claire’s heavy breathing. She shrugs and helps the racer get back home with Claire’s fury fading away, replaced with a hollowness that V knows too well. “Time to close the loop,” she advises while Claire just stares straight ahead and grips the wheel.

When they arrive at her garage, Claire looks tired, drained. She announces that she’s retiring, and she gives V her rig, advising her to watch her turns. She’s avenged Dean. There’s nothing left for her anymore.

V’s only mildly offended at the driving criticism as she takes her car back to her garage. When she returns to her place, she only has enough time for a shower and to scarf down whatever is in her fridge before her phone goes off.

River finally texts her, and V is relieved to hear back from her friend. He lets her know that he’s specializing in kidnapping for private detective work, and V wishes him luck.

Another ping, and this time it’s Cesar, the boxer she spared. He sends her a picture of his newborn baby wrapped in Cesar’s boxing robe with a golden cross around its neck. V smiles and fires back a quick congratulations.

Just as she’s about to put away her phone, someone else pings her, and V sees a message from Judy asking if V can come over. V instantly responds, asking if anything is wrong. Judy just says she would like to see her. Nothing more.

V sighs, firing back that she will swing by later once she’s done. When will she get a break?

She still had one more gig—breaking out a cop who found only something awful about the NCPD and went to her supervisor, only to be sent to an insane asylum. It seems all the good cops in Night City get fired or silenced.

V has some qualms about shooting up a hospital. Up until she discovers what the guards do everyday to the patients there, how they bar families from visiting their loved ones, how many bodies seem to quietly be wheeled out on a regular basis. Half an hour later, she’s escorting a dazed Jasmine Dixon out the front of the hospital, stepping over the corpses of shot, burnt, and blackened guards who still haven’t paid their debt to all of the people they harmed. After comforting the woman who shakes when recalling what the hospital staff members did, V sends her off back to her husband via the fixer’s driver. She’s glad that she managed to save at least one life tonight instead of ending them like she usually does.

She exhales as she slumps against a cold light pole at night, the metal like ice on her back. She feels older after these types of gigs, like she loses more of herself the more she sees what people are capable of doing to each other when no one’s looking. But that’s Night City, and V is starting to get sick of it all.

She drives to Judy’s place and only realizes when she’s in front of the apartment at 1 am in morning that it’s an ungodly hour to visit.

Well, fuck it. She’s already here.

She slips in silently, noting the lights are off, which means Judy’s sleeping. Tired, she strips off her clothes as she walks to the shower, meaning to pick them up in the morning when she’s less exhausted.

The water stings on her skin, but it’s refreshing. Awakening. V washes off the blood and grime on her skin slowly, limbs moving as if leadened. The hot water is soothing, makes her close her eyes, makes her realize how much she would like to lay down and rest, how the exhaustion feels so lovely, dark, and deep.

‘Wake the fuck up, V.” Johnny’s voice comes out harsh, loud. Scared. He bangs on the wall beside her. ‘Wake up!’

V jerks, tiredly giving him the finger before she shuts off the water and towels herself dry. She snatches some of Judy’s spare clothes she keeps in the nearby cabinet in case V wants to stay over. V doesn’t fit exactly, being more muscular and a little taller, but a baggy shirt and shorts work fine for the occasion.

Padding her way to the bedroom, V hangs in the doorway, noting Judy sleeping with the sheets tangled up in her limbs, breathing slow and even. She tries to slip into the crappy single bed without awakening Judy, carefully sliding behind her. Judy wakes anyway, lifting herself up groggily to look at V.

“Hey, babe. What took you so long to come back?” Judy falls into her, already going back to sleep, head curled into V’s chest. “I waited…” She dozes off while V sighs and settles into the tiny bed. She should really buy Judy a bigger one. 

V kisses Judy’s brow. “Sorry, took longer than I thought.”

Judy nuzzles under her chin. “S’all right. Just come home earlier.” She sighs, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” V cradles Judy to her, feeling exhausted, spent, as if the energy bled dry from her bones. “It’s been a long day.”

Judy stirs in V’s arms, pushing herself up while blinking with heavy eyelids. “You’re tense. What’s wrong?”

V exhales. Where does she even start? “The chip…”

“It’s getting worse,” Judy finishes, sitting up a little taller, more awake. “I see it, V. You’re starting to bleed out your eyes and ears.”

V thought she hid that one better. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Stop, V. Stop thinking so much about what might be and what you can’t do.” Judy leans in, pressing a kiss against V’s cheek. “You’re not leaving me. We are going to figure this out.”

V wishes she has Judy’s optimism. “How can you be so sure?” She recalls her splintered vision, the frequent bouts of blood, how much more often they seem to happen. “How do you know it’s going to work out?”

“There’s good in the world, V. I used to forget there was, but you’ve reminded me time and time again,” Judy mutters. “Because there’s good in you and people like you. Someone will help. Someone wants to help. You just need to let them.” 

She falls asleep while V stares miserably at her face, at how peaceful and at ease Judy looks in V’s arms.

Johnny flickers into view by the electropunk poster he despises. ‘That girl adores you.’ 

“I know,” V says quietly, shifting to roll onto her back as much as she can. “But I still feel alone.”

Johnny shakes his head. ’She can’t fix that.’

No, and it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to.

For a long, aching moment, V misses Jackie again. Terribly like a part of her heart withered when Jackie handed her the biochip and went silent. Like she’s been walking around with half a soul, and no one noticed. No one else understands a merc’s life like someone else who has also been through the fire. Maybe Panam, but she only had a few gigs here and there before she returned to the Aldecados. She wouldn’t fully get it. 

Johnny rumbles, staring out the window. ‘You could always talk to Rogue. She’s been there.’

V scoffs, “After your makeout fest last time? Yeah, not happening.” She runs her hand through her hair. “The only person who can understand what I’m feeling is…”

“Me.’ Johnny sighs, ‘Sorry. For this whole thing.’

“Nah, not your fault. You didn’t ask to be ripped from your body and stored as an engram.” V exhales. “Although, if you could stop being an asshole, that’d be great.”

‘No promises.’ 

Silence lapses between them while V continues to stare up into the ceiling. ‘‘Did it hurt when you died, Johnny?’

Johnny sits on Judy’s table, staring at the floor. ‘What do you want me to say? You’ve already seen what happened to me. Wasn’t exactly pretty.’ 

“Fuck.” V wipes at her face, hand coming away with wet trails. “Can you just pretend that it’s going to be okay for just a minute? That I’ll still be here in a week when I wake up?”

Johnny looks at her. ‘It’s going to be okay, V.’

“Will you miss me? Will you remember?”

Johnny’s voice rumbles. ‘Of course.’

“You’re a fucking liar.” V closes her eyes. “But thanks for humouring me.”

Johnny hangs his head, silent for a long moment. ‘Even when I was alive, no one really liked me...not like she likes you.' He gestures to Judy curled up against V’s chest. 'Not like that chick in the badlands with the chip on her shoulder. Or that ex-cop you shot down. Or that Spanish lady who clearly sees you as her own kid. I may be known as a legend, but no one really knows me. Not Rogue, not Alt, not Kerry.’ His voice goes quiet. ‘Just you.’ 

V takes a moment to realize the implication of his statement.

Oh, fuck. 

She’s Johnny Silverhand’s best friend. 

Now, V really wants to cry. 

She stares at the ceiling, feeling the immeasurable value of each beat of her heart, running out like seconds on a clock. She coughs into her hand, already knowing the splatter that will be there. “Shit.” 

Johnny doesn’t look up from where he leans against Judy’s desk, arms crossed. ‘Time’s ticking, V. You won’t be around forever. You need to talk to Hanako.’

“I know, but there’s still so much I need to do. I don’t want it to end, Johnny. I want to do more.” V closes her eyes, feeling heat beneath the lids, her throat seizing up. “I don’t want to die. I didn’t want to die.”

‘I didn’t either. Life’s a tough bitch, kid.’ When V doesn’t respond, he sighs. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“Johnny, what’s going to happen to Judy if I—”

‘Stop worrying about what hasn’t happened yet. You’re just wasting energy that way.’ His shoulders soften. ‘If something happens to you, I’ll take care of her. Promise.’

‘Your words don’t mean jack shit. You’ll probably take off the first chance you get.’ V wipes her face, feeling exhausted, drained. Ready to sleep to the end of days. ‘Will you be with me at the end at least?’

Johnny goes quiet, contemplative. ‘If you’ll let me. If it’s me who walks out at the end of the day, I’ll remember you, V. I swear. I won’t forget you.’

‘I’ll remember you too.’ 

V closes her eyes. She slumbers as if she will never wake again.

**Author's Note:**

> Next one is the official part 2.


End file.
